First Time
by Pakmai
Summary: The first time it happened, it caught them both by surprise. It was impulsive, and a bit desperate. But nothing can change what they have. One-shot. Sherlock/John. Johnlock.


**Alrighty, one more. I forgot how much I liked this pairing. Another little one-shot to get this out of my head. I don't have any ideas for a full on story, but you never know what might happen. Not that I need another fic to write. But when inspiration strikes, you seize it. Thanks everyone for reading, let me know what you think of this little snippet of Johnlock!**

**Comments/Reviews welcome!**

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The first time it happened was a surprise. Had he thought about it before? Perhaps. As bothersome as that is. Did he regret it? Never. Not then, not ever.

It was the middle of a case and Sherlock Holmes was frustrated. Which made him irritable and prone to snapping at anyone who came within arm's length. He was rattling on some nonsense about the case, talking to himself for the most part since he didn't notice that John had popped round the corner to get some milk. Something they were always running out of.

John Watson, having lived with Sherlock for a few years now, had gotten used to this sort of eccentricity. So when he returned with the milk and the younger man didn't seem to notice, it wasn't exactly shocking. He knew his flatmate well though, and the doctor in him saw the signs that the Consulting Detective hadn't been eating. Not unusual either, much to John's chagrin.

"Sherlock. You need to stop and eat something." John tried, from the doorway between the kitchen and living room. When that was met with no success, the now silent Sherlock continuing the pace back and forth in a familiar, almost manic manner, John stepped up beside his chair and tried again. "Sherlock."

It's not that Sherlock was purposely ignoring his flatmate and friend. He was just focused, trying to work through the problem and figure out what he was missing. There had to be something. It seemed so simple and yet nothing was adding up. So he continued his pacing, hand fluttering through the air as he continued a silent conversation on with himself, robe fluttering behind him, suit shirt slightly askew from his frustration and his hair more mussed than it usually is.

The view in front of him was a little too much for John Watson. Impulsively, he did the first thing he could think of to get Sherlock's attention. Stepping in the path of the taller man, when it seemed that Sherlock was about to rebuke him, the doctor buried one hand in the Detective's curls and pulled him down for an unintentionally intense kiss.

Shock is certainly the word used to describe how Sherlock felt when his and John's lips meant. Every synapse and nerve ending seemed to fire at once. It a high like he had never experienced, a drug more powerful than any he had subjected his body to. And while he was a little clumsy about it, due to a bit of inexperience and being a bit rusty, the dark haired man still responded the best he could. It seemed a natural progression of their relationship really, if he was honest with himself. Which he rarely seems to be. All the tension seems to slide out of him during the kiss, and he's almost a little surprised when it ends, taking a deep breath through his nose as he looks down at his friend. For once at a loss for words.

John stares for a few moments at Sherlock as he processes what just happened and the fact that, despite his protestations to the contrary, eh actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Realizing that he was still holding Sherlock down with a hand on the back of his neck, he stroked the skin there for a moment before slowly sliding his hand away. "Now that I have your attention, you need to eat something." Tugging down his jumper, the Doctor clears his throat a little and finally pivots away from Sherlock to retrieve his phone. "Shall we order in?" he asks as casually as he can, holding up the phone as further indication of his intentions.

Slowly straightening himself as well as he's released, Sherlock is still processing what just happened when he finally focuses on the phone in John's hand. "Ah. Yes. Chinese." He finally agrees, watching the smaller man for a few moments before he turns toward the window slowly, steepling his fingers under his chin. As he hears John rustling about to get the menu presumably, he smirks slightly as he stares out at the city from the large windows. "I thought you weren't gay." He can't help wheedling his friend.

Startled, John looks up at Sherlock's back before he snorts a little and shakes his head as he looks back down at the menu in his hands. "Apparently only for you, you bloody git." He mutters, knowing full well the younger man can hear him.

Nothing more was said, nothing was discussed. They didn't need to. The case was solved, and John and Sherlock's relationship changed a little. Slowly more and more physical, but there were the same old fights, the same cases, but no longer did John Watson object when people mistook him for Sherlock's boyfriend. Instead, he wore that badge proudly, or if he was feeling cheeky, occasionally replied with, "Actually he's MY boyfriend, thank you very much."


End file.
